The fury of summer is winding down, sipping less coffee and more wine. Here and there, leaves are relaxing into the spectrum of autumn. This week, preschool begins. As my last hurrah to summer, here are some--chronological--snaps from August (mind you, summer isn't over 'til the 22nd, dammit):
:: Yanking dinner from the yard.
:: Me. In a hammock. Lying down. Believe it.
Juniper:
Mama, I love the whole round world.
Me:
Me too.
Juniper:
Mama, I'm glad we are both loving this whole round world.
:: Morning love for the meat chickens.
:: Of course we did.
:: Strolling through the neighborhood.
:: Slice of life in my house.
:: How most (too many?) meals begin. There are always (too many?) greens.
:: Not the best photograph but I love all it represents: the loud, maraca-banging dance, the felted treasure bags made by my cousin sent by my aunt and worn around the
neck(?), Juniper's grandma-made skirt, Hazel and her one shoe....
:: Smokey, wildfire sunsets marking the apex of summer.
:: My favorite hen, Mama Brahma. She was named early on, and lives up to it. She's curious, friendly, a leader.
:: My favorite helper.
:: Um, another slice of life in my house.
:: Our weekly "nature group".
:: Somewhere in the middle of my
crappy 36 hours, Juniper offered me a cookie and a drink (I think it was beer).
:: I ended the
crappy 36 hours with a spontaneous camp-out on the upper deck. We told stories and counted stars as they appeared until there were too many to count and wide eyes slowly closed.
Magic.
:: And my man sent us flowers from afar. The card read:
Look in "Animal Physiology," chapter F for Feeding. My note, addressed to Clove, was tucked inside the pages of that old textbook. (For more on the history of Clove, click
here and
here.)
:: The strawberry patch. Originally, the wire kept out
both the robins and the kids. They are learning to wait until they're red, but not always.
:: My new coffee mug. Purchased directly from the hands that made it, my favorite.
:: My ride into town. Since April I've been biking...to playgroup, the post office, the library, the Farmer's Market.... I love the ride. I add an extra mile and ride past this little airstrip, along a paved bike path through an open, undeveloped neighborhood, down to the river, across the bridge and into town. On a busy day, 6 to 10 vehicles will pass me before I get to town. On a slow day, 1 to 3.
:: Dinner and tomatoes at the Farmer's Market.
:: Playdate on the river (with our young friend L).
:: What they do when I'm not looking. (It's either this or full-body decorating with the markers.)
:: Weird art project they devised themselves after ransacking the craft shelf.
:: Noticing the drive home.
:: Hazel rediscoverd (and loves) the sling. Especially on the day she pushed that last canine through. And I love that I remembered what a win-win a simple sling can be: everyone is happy and I can still cook dinner.
:: My oldest daughter's propensity to decorate garden weeds.
:: Playgroup at the pool. (And Hazel's too-big swim diaper, mooning the life-guards.)
:: Playing dress up.
Girl with the Pink Plastic Necklace
:: I asked my man to bring home gifts for the kids. He couldn't find anything local and avoids Made in China like the plague. So he brought gifts from the desert: juniper berries, juniper sticks and branches, pinecones, acorns, dried cactus branches, joshua tree seed pods.... His desert loot has brought endless enjoyment. Now, most of the joshua tree seed pods have been busted open and all the seeds picked out, the acorns are down to their funny little elf-like hats, and the juniper berries have been handled right down to the seed.
C'est tout. Au revoir. Bonne nuit.
